Guardian
by iheartShules
Summary: John turns to Joss in a moment of need. Rated T for now since this is a WIP so far. SHAMELESS CAREESE :D
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: I really need to get my muse under control with John Reese and Joss Carter. It's been running amuck for a while now with no hope of slowing down. This story happened because I made the mistake of re-watching 2x1 and 2x2.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

Joss climbed out of the shower before toweling off. It had been a long few days. First with saving John from Donnelly, the FBI and HR, then helping work the Alicia Corwin case after a woman known as Root kidnapped Finch, and then flying to Texas to help John search for their missing friend. She wondered if John got him back yet. John jet-setted off for Maryland after they managed to figure out what really happened to Hanna Frye and that was the last she'd heard from him. Fusco wondered what happened and she told him what she could. She hoped John, or better yet, Finch, called soon.

Joss removed the shower cap that she had on to protect her hair from getting wet before wrapping the towel around her and cinched it tight, just under her armpits, and frowned when she thought she heard a noise in her bedroom. She froze to listen. She listened again and she definitely heard footsteps. Her heart started to pound as adrenaline began pumping through her veins. Damn it; she left her gun in her bedroom. Joss looked around her bathroom in search of a weapon she could use to fight off the intruder long enough to reach her gun.

She exited her bathroom with the toilet plunger held like a baseball bat ready to swing it at the prowler and then lunge for her gun, when she came face to face with her intruder. "JOHN!" she hissed in anger. "What the hell are you doing here?—in my bedroom, while I was taking a shower," she lamented as she lowered the plunger down, feeling her heart settle back in her chest. She got fired up for no reason. And she frowned as she stared at him. He looked lost.

"I can't find him," John said softly as he sat down on the foot of her bed.

Joss paused. "You can't find Finch?—I thought…"

John looked up and she saw the bleakness in his eyes. "So did I," he whispered as he looked back down and unfurled his left hand and she saw cufflinks that had to be Finch's.

Joss looked away from his hand to his face and grew more concerned about him. He looked disheveled and she could swear she smelled alcohol and he was a good few feet away. That was not good. She didn't want John reverting back to the man she had in her precinct when they first met. She liked the progress John had made at healing, at growing, and now it was all in jeopardy. Not to mention their friend was out there somewhere in need of help.

"Stay put, let me change and we'll talk." she requested firmly.

John didn't respond as he just sat staring at the cufflink in his hand. Joss hurried over to her dresser grabbing a pink matching satin shorts and tank pajama set hurrying back into her bathroom to quickly change and put the plunger back where it belonged. She left John alone for only a minute or two as she exited the bathroom and was glad to find that he had listened for once.

She sat down at the foot of her bed next to him. Joss reached out and took his hand that was holding the cufflink into hers, linking their fingers as they held onto it together, trying to comfort him.

"Tell me what happened." she asked softly as she ran the fingers of her other hand over his hand she held.

He didn't look at her and, at first, he remained silent before finally speaking; "I got to Maryland and stopped at a gas station where surveillance placed Root being at in the morning when I received a call from Fusco," John began.

Joss nodded as he stopped. "Okay, go on…" she led.

"Fusco learned that Root went after a man named Denton Weeks, who was in the same government business as Alicia Corwin."

"Was?" Joss questioned.

"Root killed him. I'm sure the FBI is going to keep it quiet and search for Root; I found Denton bound and shot in the chest when I got to the cottage that a woman who was Denton's girlfriend owned. It was in Relton Maryland near the gas station I placed Root in the morning," he explained gravelly. Joss squeezed his hand in sympathy. "When I got there Finch and Root were already gone but I found his cufflink near a cordless phone. Harold left me a trail to find him and I failed him," he said in utter despair.

"John, I doubt that," she argued.

He looked at her with anguish and anger in his eyes. Anger at himself, anger at her, probably because she refused to stop believing in him. But she always would. He had proven time and time again that he was good on his word even if she didn't fully agree with his ways of going about what was needed to be done.

"I didn't save him, did I?" he snarled. John was all bark and no bite, at least with her; it was something she learned a long time ago.

"Finish telling me what happened; you want me to make a rash decision that all this is your fault when I haven't heard a single thing that proves it is," Joss replied shortly. "Tell me what trail Finch left for you to follow," she insisted.

John swallowed hard as he looked away. "Finch used a variation of the tap code on a cordless phone. He left me a series of numbers and I translated it to mean: train station. I headed there and I couldn't find him. They must have already left and there weren't any more clues to go on; the trail had run cold," he whispered.

Joss nodded, digesting everything he just said. "So how is that your fault?—you figured out the clue he left you and when you got there, he wasn't. Did you check the train times and destinations?" she asked.

"I did. A train left about fifteen minutes before I got there so they could have possibly boarded that one and that was going south. And then there was one that was boarding while I was there and that one was going west but I didn't see him," John replied as his hand reflectively tightened on hers.

"Get me the name of the train station and the time you went and I'll check into it for you. I'll just tell the station that a possible suspect in a murder investigation of mine was seen there; we can call local law enforcements around the end destinations and put out a BOLO for a description matching Root. When we get a hit we'll hop on a plane and go check it out. So there is still hope we will find Harold, but it just might take a little more time," she murmured gently, rubbing his hand that she held. "Just don't give up hope, John, please."

John looked at her. "You don't know that we'll find him," he rasped.

"You don't know we won't either," she reasoned. John sat and stared at her, didn't argue further but didn't exactly look like he agreed with her. "So what are you going to do now about these people you are supposed to be either helping or stopping? You're still going to work that even with Finch being MIA, right?"

"I'm the contingency," he replied bitterly. She wasn't sure what that meant but she was going to damn well find out.

"Care to explain?"

John looked at her and he removed his hand from hers as he climbed to his feet pocketing the cufflinks. "I can't," he said simply.

"Can't or won't?" she demanded as she got to her feet too, crossing her arms over her chest. "John, I believe you want to tell but you're remaining silent because of Finch; but you're going to need help to work these cases now that you're alone and I want to help you; but to do that I need to know where you are getting your information."

Joss could see he looked torn. "John, you told me that I wasn't alone; well neither are you. You have me," she added knowing she was twisting his arm. She knew that John needed to find Finch but she also knew that he needed to continue to working these cases because it was more than just a job to him.

He looked at her immediately, eyes wide and vulnerable and she knew she had him. He just needed another little nudge. "John, trust me," she implored. "Trust me to have your back just like you always had mine."

John exhaled as he ran a hand through his short hair. "That was low," he muttered.

She chuckled a little. "You're trying to out argue with a former Army Interrogator, John. You aren't going to make it," she teased, feeling pleased when she caught sight of a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. "I can keep a secret: I mean you're supposedly a dead former CIA agent that the FBI is searching for and I've been keeping you out of their grubby hands."

The smile was gone in seconds. "It's not about trust because I trust you with my life or the fact that I know you can keep a secret. It's about protecting you, Joss. There's a reason why Finch is so far off the grid, because everyone that knew the truth is dead," he stated forcefully.

Joss wasn't phased in the slightest. "I'll be safe," she reassured him quickly. She had her own ideas on where he was getting this information and she felt on the cusp of learning the truth. John wanted to tell her but his loyalty to Finch, who wanted everything kept shrouded in mystery, was getting in the way.

"You're right, you'll be safe because I'm not telling you," John reasoned.

"No, I'll be safe because you'll protect me. Even though I don't want or need your protection because I can protect myself as I have been doing for years, but that's just you. And I learned to accept that you'll always butt your stubborn ass into my affairs when you think I might be in danger of getting a paper-cut," she said and earned a glare. "I'm kidding…mostly, you care about my well-being. So how about you let me care about yours for once."

John searched her eyes before looking her over then back in her eyes. His blue depths darkened a bit and she wondered what he was thinking about. She knew she was underdressed but damn it: it was close to midnight. It wasn't her fault he just let himself into her home and bedroom.

"Get dressed, Carter. I need to take you someplace."

Joss was waiting for him to explain everything but she certainly didn't expect that. "Um…what?" she asked.

"You want the truth…."

"Yea, but I didn't think we needed a field trip to get that," she complained mildly but she trudged towards her dresser again anyway. Being tired took a backseat to finally learning the truth of where they got their information from.

* * *

Joss drove. She didn't trust John behind the wheel with the alcohol she could smell still and the fact that he was depressed. She was going to have to make sure she browbeat her way into his life more often. John didn't handle loss well. As of right now Finch was MIA, but to John that was still not in his life and he was going to drink more, be more reckless, and that was something she was going to nip in the bud before it got out of hand.

She followed his instructions to the letter and pulled up to the curb near the corner of Madison and E 37th Street; when he told her to park that they had to walk the rest of the way. Joss looked around as she walked beside him down a tunnel. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Finch once said it was the decline of the western civilization," John murmured quietly before leading her to a side entrance of an old building. John pulled out a key and unlocked the door before opening it up for her. They both entered and John relocked up behind them.

Joss looked around in surprise before looking at John. "So your base of operations is a damn library?" she said.

A ghost of a smile came back. "Does that really surprise you?" he murmured.

"Knowing how much Finch loves to read: no, not really. Actually I should have figured this out a while ago and went searching for you," she admitted.

"You wouldn't have found it, Carter. Finch controls the bank that bought this library which then promptly went into bankruptcy. So the property is in limbo, it doesn't really exist in public records anymore. It's being run on generators," John explained as they walked through the trashed litter on the floor.

It definitely looked abandoned and she bet they left it that way so no one would ever think of breaking in here. She followed him up a flight of stairs before they headed down a long corridor to a gated off area that was padlocked closed. John once more produced a key but this one was smaller. She didn't say a word, just watched and waited. Once more he opened the door and let her enter first. She whistled as she came up on the hub of where they did their work.

There was a glass board that had a picture of Caroline Turing, aka Root, taped to it. Then there was a large circular table that held computers and a few books resting on it. Joss looked around for a bit before shifting her gaze from their surroundings and onto John.

She motioned with her hand around them. "So?—why am I here?" she questioned.

He looked around the library himself as he spoke, "This is how we get our information, Joss."

Joss cocked a brow up in skepticism. "From an old derelict library?" she murmured.

John's gaze shifted to her. "Yes," he answered quietly.

She shook her head. "John, I need to understand this because I don't right now. I don't get what this place has to do with how you find out who you are supposed to stop or save," Joss said as she folded her arms across her chest. "Help me understand."

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," John whispered.

"Tell me," she asserted. She might have gotten her foot into the door but it didn't mean a damn thing if John didn't want to explain. Because she was confused as hell. But she remained patient and prayed that John would realize she was on his side in this and open up to her.

"We get calls on a payphone," he said abruptly.

Joss nodded. "Okay…so your source calls you on a payphone. So it's a person?" she prodded.

"No. It's an artificial intelligence, built to stop the next 9/11," John said quietly and Joss's brows rose high on her forehead. "I know; crazy, right?"

"Actually it's about what I was figuring you were going to say. You forget I was in the Army with friends who are still and after 9/11 happened I know a lot of officials wanted something to protect the country; I know the government gave themselves the power to read every email and hear every phone call. It's just I didn't think anyone produced anything, clearly I was wrong," she said. "So how did you guys come across it?"

"Harold built it," John answered and Joss's mouth dropped open. "As for me: I came across it because Finch needed someone who had the ability to do what needed to be done without any physical limitations."

Joss sat on the edge of the table. "The precinct, the night we met….he was man behind your lawyers," she said softly as she looked at him in awe. "He found you because of your fight with Anton and his cronies; it was all over the news about a homeless man being attacked by punks on the subway, including the fact that you kicked their asses."

"Yea, apparently Finch was searching for me for a while and then he had his lawyers bail me out and he offered me a job; this job, to save the numbers," John agreed quietly as his eyes shifted away from her and fell onto the glass pane with Root's photo taped to it.

"Numbers?" she asked. John closed his eyes at war with himself. He wanted to tell Joss everything but Finch hadn't wanted Joss to ever know about the machine. "Please John tell me, so I can help you. I know you said you couldn't tell me about where you got your information because Finch doesn't want you to, because he wants to protect me and I know you do too. But if you're this 'contingency' that you mentioned: then it's up to you to make this call."

He exhaled roughly as his eyes opened and he looked at her. "We only get their social security numbers."

"That explains why you don't know if they are victims or perpetrators," she murmured, getting a new understanding. "So this artificial intelligence calls you on the payphone and gives you the social security numbers of who might be involved with some sort of crime."

"Not exactly…."

"Then what does it do exactly, John?"

"Joss, I think this is a mistake…"

"John you already told me something I was suspecting anyways; that your source isn't human but computer. I had already that much in my mind since you asked for my help on the Andrea Gutierrez case. So far nothing you have said shocks me," Joss stated forcefully. She wasn't letting John bow-out now. He was so close to telling her, trusting her with his secret, and she wasn't about to let him back out now. He needed help and by god she wanted to give him it.

John just needed a subtle nudge. "Please John, trust me; you trusted me this far to show me the library to give information on this artificial intelligence. So trust me with the rest," she cajoled.

She shifted as John sat down at the chair resting his forearms on his thighs, bending his head down. Joss didn't fight the urge to comb her fingers through his hair. It just felt natural to be here for him when he was in an internal struggle, to give him strength and comfort when he needed her. His hair was soft and thankfully free of those hair care products he used to tame his stubborn locks.

John sat up and so she dropped her hand and leaned forward and waited for him to speak. "When the machine calls the payphone it uses the ICAO phonetic alphabet. We then use those to correspond with the title and author's initials on the library books," he said gravelly.

Joss forced herself to not smile at the trust he was showing her. She focused on what he was saying. She looked at the books. "The Dewey Decimal System, Finch is slick," she said with a soft laugh. "I have a question though; if the machine was built to stop the next 9/11 how do you receive the numbers of those who are a part of a violent crimes of just every-day people?"

"Finch said that the machine saw all types of crimes so he had to teach it to divide the things it saw or heard into two lists: relevant and irrelevant. The events that could cause massive loss of life was relevant and it would be passed along to the NSA or FBI, while every other violent crime that was deemed to be irrelevant at midnight the machine erases it."

Joss just stared at him. John stood up to pace before looking out the big windows just off of the computers. "But we get the number that is at the top of that list and sometimes we get multiple ones which is when we enlist your and Fusco's help," he said further to explain.

Joss stood up too. "I see," she murmured, not going to judge Harold. That must have been terrible to have to program the machine in such a way knowing that whoever might have been irrelevant to national security was relevant to someone. "So that must mean I was a number once," she said thinking about the past, before she came to help them back when he called her up to warn her that someone wanted her dead.

"You never were just a number to me," he whispered.

Joss looked at his back, startled, but he was looking out the window of the library and she wasn't even sure if he realized he said that out loud. So she chose to file that confession away.

"Thank you John for trusting me with this," she said sincerely. John turned to look at her and the vulnerable look remained. John was raw and hurting and people from John's past would surely have used it to their advantage but she wouldn't. She would never abuse their friendship or the trust he bestowed on her to let his guard down with her, even if she had questions and knew he might just be willing to share answers tonight. Tomorrow he'd hate her and she wouldn't blame him. "How about I take you home and we'll get to start working these numbers together until we can find Finch," she suggested.

"Joss, the numbers never stop coming."

"And I'll never stop being here for you," she replied as she reached out to nab his hand with hers. "I'm with you, John; now and forever."

He shook his head. "Don't promise that and change your mind," he said, pleadingly.

"No chance of that happening. Ever," she vowed. "Now come on: let me take you to your place so you can get some sleep because we are going to have our hands full until we can find our missing friend," she persuaded and he didn't fight her.

It didn't take long to get to his place on Baxter that overlooked Columbus Park. John sat in the car beside her, silent. "I'll call you if we get a new number," he muttered as he grabbed the door handle.

"How about we have breakfast at Lyric Diner instead?" Joss suggested, knowing John was going to conveniently forget to eat.

"What time?"

"Say eight o'clock or is that too early for the man in the suit?" Joss teased, wanting to drag out a smile even if he was unwilling. A hint of one graced his handsome face and she felt like she achieved some gold medal or something.

"See you then, Carter," John whispered before he opened the door and climbed out of the car and slid the door closed, making it feel awfully empty without him in her car.

Joss watched John walk away from the car and head to his apartment complex. It was a nice complex; definitely uppity, which had to be gifted to him from Finch. If she knew John half as well as she figured she did, he would be in some dump; hell, she'd doubted he would even have a place of his own if Finch didn't push one on him. They'd get Finch back: they just had too, John needed him. Her eyes tracked the lone figure walking away in the dark until he disappeared into the complex. John protected everyone, her included, with no regard to his own well-being; he was the world's guardian and she would be his.

With that thought she smiled softly as she turned her head, pulled away from the curb and drove home.

* * *

AN: See...my muse is twisted! I've been advised that I need to finish this :D


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: I hope everyone had wonderful holidays!**_

* * *

Consciousness tugged at him; John wanted to groan from the pounding headache; he had from drinking too much. Anguish surged as the memory of being too late to save Finch flickered through him. He was too late…again. He had been too late to save Jessica and now Finch, both who believed in him to be there and he failed them. Jessica was murdered by her abusive husband and now Finch, who had physical limitations, was in the clutches of a mad woman. Why could he save everyone but the ones that counted?—he almost lost Joss when her C.I. tried to murder her, thanks to Elias's manipulation. Joss had been the only one he had been able to save before it was too late. He didn't even want to think of life without her. Losing Joss would be a loss he could not recover from.

He stayed in bed and kept his eyes closed. He knew he had to get going at some point, but right now he preferred not moving, not until the jackhammer behind his eyes quieted down.

John froze in bed as he could swear he smelled coffee. His eyes snapped open, body tensing when he heard a distinct sound of movement in his place.

"Didn't mean to wake you." John blinked away the blurriness as his body relaxed as he sat up on his bed, his comforter twisted around his hips, thankfully, since he was in the buff. He looked at the woman the voice belonged too: Joss. She smiled. "You're not the only one who knows how to pick a lock," or she teased as she stood near his windows, holding a coffee cup from Starbucks in each hand, and walked unhurriedly across his place, a studio apartment, to stand at the foot of the bed.

"You got quite the nice pad here, Finch did good choosing this for you," she commented after handing him her peace offering: coffee.

John ran a hand over his face before taking a necessary sip of the black coffee. "How did you even get up here to break into my place?" he asked after a moment with a yawn.

"Oh you mean your concierge; he's a sweet older man who I noticed had a couple picture frames of young children, which had to be his grandkids so I chatted him up about them. Did you know he has three?—he has two boys and a girl: Joshua, Jennifer, and Jimmy. He also has a wife who he adores and been married to for forty-five years, they were high-school sweethearts and while we talked about the grandkids and his wife, Melanie, I gave him a coffee and pastry because his job so thankless," she exclaimed cheerfully and wanted to giggle as he dropped his hand from his face to glower.

She wanted to point out he wasn't the only one who knew how to work an angle or cultivate a relationship with someone to get something they wanted. But she didn't, instead she finished explaining, "Anyway, I told him about how close we are and that you lost someone near and dear to you, so I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. He was very happy to help me help you."

John quirked a brow up before saying; "You bribed my concierge with coffee and then alluded to a relationship with me to get up here."

Joss shrugged as she sat down at the edge of the bed and smirked. "It's not my fault your concierge is a hopeless romantic and a coffee fiend like me," she replied sweetly. Her keen gaze slid over him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he lied.

Joss chuckled. "Okay, answer the question again and this time: don't lie to me, because I'm the human lie detector," she said.

John leaned back into his pillows, searching her smug gaze. "The human lie detector, huh," he repeated. She nodded, smile still in place. He sighed. "You know how I feel Carter."

"Yea: like everything is all your fault, plus you probably have a hangover because you drank too much because I could smell the alcohol reeking off your breath, so you feel like crap. How am I doing so far?" Joss asked coyly.

"What are you doing here?—I thought we agreed to meet at Lyric Diner?" he asked, changing the subject, not in the mood to talk about his feelings.

She shrugged before saying, "Figured you could use a pick me up."

"Which translates into you thought I'd stand you up," John countered.

Joss leaned forward. "Perhaps, but then you showed me your bat-cave so I could always search for you here. Anyway, you wouldn't do that, not now, we're a team," she pointed out. "So get up and get dressed because we need to get you some food."

"I can't," he muttered.

Joss looked at him angrily. "Yes, you can, John. Finch wouldn't want you wallowing here because he's missing. He'd want you to continue fighting for those who can't. And I will be here to get you going," she stated firmly.

"No; I meant I _can't_ get up," he said refusing to blush.

"Why not?" she demanded, seeing twin splotches on his cheeks. Was John blushing?

"I'm naked," he stated lowly.

Joss's brows rose high and if he wasn't embarrassed he would have smirked at the shock on her face. Her gaze slipped from his eyes to his body causing his groin to tighten in response at the appreciative smile and then back to his eyes as she recovered from her surprise. "Well, well, well…the man in the suit sleeps in his birthday suit," she murmured shamelessly.

He sighed. "Yes, so turn around," he requested.

There was no way in hell he was climbing out from under his covers with Joss watching. He had been battling an attraction to this woman since he met her. And the only reason he could withstand the constant pull towards her was the simple fact of knowing he wasn't good enough for her. Joss deserved better than someone like him which kept him in line. But being naked in front of her with her looking beautiful in her tight black pantsuit and cherry colored top peeking out from underneath, hair framing her appealing face would be too much, even knowing he wasn't anywhere near her league.

Joss smiled. "And if I say no?" she wondered.

John sat on his bed with the coffee in hand, and unsure. "Carter…"

"Alright, I'll turn around." she said as she turned around but taking her good time doing so.

John grunted his appreciation as he set the coffee down on the nightstand beside the bed before looking at her back, more precisely her butt. "No peeking," he added.

He heard her laugh. "Who me: the by the book detective?" she murmured innocently.

John smiled softly knowing she was doing this to try to cheer him up as he shoved back his covers as he climbed to his feet. He eyed Joss as she was true to her word and kept her back turned which left him disappointed. He opened the dresser and pulled out a pair of clean boxer-briefs and tugged them up.

"Okay, I'm decent…mostly."

Joss turned and eyed him from head to toe. Her gaze moved up to his and he saw something flicker across her face before it was gone. "Well get dressed John: I'm famished."

* * *

Good lord, John looked amazing in just his underwear; her eyes had unintentionally gone straight down between his legs like a damn magnet! But you'd have to be a saint to not look at him and Joss was damn well no saint. She was a mere woman who could appreciate a nice body and John had a nice body, a _very_ nice one. Joss could kick herself for not sneaking a peek as she debated on doing, but, she had promised to not do so. She sighed; sometimes it really stunk being good. Joss tried to blink away the image of him in his underwear with the nice bulge, then that flat stomach and those muscles he had... because he was just a friend.

They sat in Lyric Diner, eating breakfast and Joss had taken the initiative to order John a large breakfast when the blasted man asked for just coffee. With the glare she perfected in the Army to make even the most hardened terrorist squirm; John gave in but taking much longer than she had anticipated, but begrudgingly ate the breakfast she had ordered for him, much to her satisfaction.

She leaned in close. "So how does this work?" she asked amicably as she sipped her coffee.

"How does what work?"

Joss knew he wasn't attempting to be purposely obtuse with her since he was still battling a raging headache if the way he winced every time he shifted when the light hit him square in the eyes was any indication.

"Getting these numbers?" she supplied softly to keep their conversation between them.

"When I get one: I'll call you."

"No." she said immediately as she shook her head. John looked up at her. "No, what happens if you're in the middle of working a number and we miss a phone call. I want to be more inclusive in this; I want to be able to pick up the payphone and then head to the library and get the number for us. I want to be your partner in this just like Finch was, at least until we get him back." Though Joss wasn't going to add that even after they got their friend back that she had no inclination to go back to being out of the loop; now that she was deeply ingrained with this secret, she was staying involved, no matter what Finch wanted.

John swallowed hard as his gaze dropped. "If we get him back," he whispered.

Joss reached out to lay her hand on his. "We will, John. We will get him back and Root will go to prison for what she's done," she replied forcefully.

John's gaze lifted but did not remove her touch. She knew he was hurting with the loss of his friend. "After we're done, we need to head to the intersection of 49th and 6th," he said quietly.

Joss furrowed her brows. "Why there?" she asked, confused.

"You want to be more inclusive; we have to let the machine know you're a primary asset to be contacted if we get a new number," John explained.

Joss knew she was still trying to get used to this but that sounded secretive. "And exactly how are we supposed to do that?" Joss questioned.

John's lips twitched. "You'll see…."

* * *

"This is utterly ridiculous!" Joss bemoaned as she stood beside John as he looked up at a camera. "You have to be kidding me, John! You want me to talk to an inanimate object," she said with a flap of her arm in the general direction of the camera.

"This is how the machine sees, Carter; remember it's an artificial intelligence," he murmured. "It takes time to get used to this, so if you want to…"

Joss interrupted him before he could say more. "No, I'll just have to get used to this as we go; like you had too with Finch," she assured him.

He nodded. "Are you sure Joss?—because once you go down this road there is no turning back," he murmured lowly.

Joss rolled her eyes, having heard this before. "I'm sure John, I've never been as sure about anything in my life but I don't know what to do here," she admitted. John's gaze was on hers. She sighed. "Can you give me some…privacy with the machine?—so we can come to some sort of agreement," she asked, never believing she would ever say these words together in a sentence in her life. The world was sure changing.

"Privacy?" he repeated as his eyes looked around them as men and women walked by them.

Joss shrugged. "Yes, privacy without you; I want to talk to the machine myself, without needing your help. I want the machine to know I mean business. I want to help with the numbers," she replied.

"Sure, I'll wait for you in the car, I guess," he offered, not sure this was going to work. She nodded and watched him go. Joss looked around and saw that there were tons of people, so they were going to think she was a nutcase talking to a camera but she needed to get her point across to this artificial intelligence.

Joss refused to feel stupid as she looked up at the camera. "Hey…uh, super computer, machine, whatever you want to be called: I want you to give me numbers like you give John and Finch. Finch is out there someplace, missing, and in need of help and we'll find him. I'll find him. But until that happens; John needs help. He needs someone to have his back and he's always had mine. So I want to return the favor," she stated, waiting for someone to show up and take her away in a straight jacket.

Joss hated the stupid burning at the backs of her eyes, blinking a few extra times as she continued; "And it's more selfish than just that. I need John in my life. He means a lot to me and I'm afraid that if he's working these…numbers alone something bad will happen to him and I can't handle that. I can't lose him. So I'm asking you to grant me permission to help with saving those who need it so I can save John. He protects and saves everyone; he needs me to protect him. Please," she said impassioned, hoping the machine could hear her sincerity in her voice; because she did really want to help with the numbers, with finding Finch, and with protecting John.

She blinked when the payphone nearby started to ring. She looked back up to the camera. "Thank you," she said genuinely before moving towards the payphone and picked up the phone.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the sporadic update but this will be updated slower than other stories. Though with the holidays nearly finished with only New Year's coming I think I'll have more time to devote to this one. Thanks for waiting and reading this! I got a new AU I am going to be posting as I post A to Z and this. I think I have a special love for AUs :D


	3. Chapter 3

Joss entered the precinct after driving John to the library with the garbled words from the machine that used the ICAO phonetic code in her mind. She had nearly jumped after she picked up the payphone and it gave out the series of words. It put everything in perspective. She knew John was telling her the truth, but to hear the machine with her own two ears just made everything that much more real to her.

But after her initial surprise and wonderment; she immediately got down to business. She and John both found the necessary books to find out the Social Security number at the library before she promised to head to the precinct. She had offered to run the number in the database, but of course John wanted to do it the illegal way and hack his way inside. She wondered if he wanted to do it that way to prove to himself that he could manage without the great hacker that Finch was. While she wanted to stay with him so badly because the machine had granted its permission at giving her the numbers too, she knew John needed her here to get those BOLOs out to find Root so they could find their missing friend. John agreed to call her about their number so they could work it together.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Fusco chimed as she walked past his desk.

Joss flung her keys onto her desk, shooting him a look that dared him to say more. He didn't, instead he lifted his hands in silent surrender. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he commented under his breath.

"No, it's-it's just been a long night," she muttered as she relaxed.

"Let me guess: Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stormy needed you?" Fusco replied.

Fusco knew he couldn't compete with Carter, not with the way Wonder Boy's eyes lit up every time he was around her. The big guy probably didn't even know he was enamored with Carter, but Fusco wasn't a detective by accident. He saw the signs, the big guy didn't exactly play it cool but he just hoped his friends knew what they were doing. Reese wasn't exactly a Boy Scout and Carter was all about the rules and regulations. But then again opposites did attract.

Joss sighed as she walked over to his desk and stood before it. "We can't find Harold," she explained softly. "John was in a bad way, but he came to me for help. I was there for him, so I didn't get much sleep because I was worried about him."

He snorted. "He always goes to you. You're you, Carter." Joss rolled her eyes in answer. "But, wait! Einstein is not back with us?—I thought the Crabby Commando was bringing him home," Fusco asked.

"So did he," she murmured with a tight look on her face. "But it didn't happen; John followed the clues that Finch left him, but no dice; he was gone by the time he went to the train station and the trail ran cold," she explained sadly before getting a determined look on her face. "But that's where you and I come in."

"No way; I am not flying to god knows where to go search for a needle in a haystack! I got a kid, Carter, and so do you. We have responsibilities unlike Mr. Sunshine," Fusco said sternly.

"No. I promised John we would get BOLOs out matching Root's descriptions and I need you to call one in for me in Baton Rouge while I call the other one in Salt Lake City," she explained.

Both of the places were the only end destinations from the train station that John had gone to in his search for Harold around the time John figured Harold was there. She was hoping one of the local law enforcements there might get a hit and they could get a new lead to find their missing friend. Joss was also going to call the Maryland train station and see if they could send her their camera footage so she could possibly pinpoint Root and Harold there, so they knew that they were on the right track.

Fusco nodded. "That's a very sane idea, must not be wonder-boy's," he grumbled.

Joss smiled as she said; "It was mine; John was so upset he had given up hope. This gives him some." Joss didn't add that had John looked lost and had been in a vulnerable state of mind that she refused to take advantage of. She wanted John to want to open up to her; not because he had enough to drink and was at a low point. She just hoped they could find their missing friend sooner rather than later.

"The big guy was grouchy before and had no direction, now what is going to happen without Mr. Peabody to keep him in line for an extended period of time?" Fusco wondered. He winced. Great, the bane of his existence was going to be even worse which was saying something; the guy wasn't exactly a peach to deal with even when Glasses was around.

"John is going to be just fine because he's got us," she said simply. She had no qualms forcing herself into his life, being the voice of reason, to be his light in John's otherwise dark world.

Fusco caught himself before he snorted with laughter at that; more like wonder-boy had her. The world revolved around Carter in the big guy's eyes, though it seemed Mr. Sunshine wasn't the only one not clued in on his feelings for Carter because evidently his partner was just as clueless. But there was one thing Fusco wasn't sure about: did Carter return those feelings or not? His partner was a definitely tougher read than wonder-boy. She kept everything close to her chest, never really letting on what she was thinking or feeling. She was quick with a quip and her sarcasm matched his. It was one of the things he liked most about Carter. That and her 'take no shit' attitude.

Joss made a face. "What?" she demanded, not sure what to make of the look on her friend and partner's face.

"Nothin,' uh, I'll get on it and call Baton Rouge's Transit and put out the BOLO for Cocoa Puffs. Maybe we'll get a hit and find Einstein quickly," he said instead. The quicker they found the missing encyclopedia than the quicker the big guy would be out of his hair.

Joss nodded with a forced smile. "Thanks," she said, turning to head over for her desk. She needed to get these calls done before John called her with information about their new number.

A little under an hour later her cell rang. She had just hung up with Salt Lake City's Transit with her BOLO request. She faxed a photo of 'Caroline Turing' and now it was a wait and see game. She wouldn't have the footage from Maryland's train station for another week but at least it was on the way.

Joss answered on the second ring. "Hey John, how you holding up?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered. Joss clenched her teeth tight to refrain from disagreeing with him because she knew he was lying.

She swallowed her words and said instead, "So what do we have for my official case of knowing everything?"

"His name is Jacob McKinnon; age thirty-two, and a private investigator."

Joss groaned. "A P.I. is our new number, great," she muttered and she thought she heard soft laughter escape him.

"That was my same reaction, Carter."

"John, you can't get anywhere near this guy; if he's a private investigator he's going to want to know who and what you are and that could be a big problem. And if Donnelly gets wind of it he'll want to get you more than ever after you slipped through his fingers in the hotel," she admitted softly. It wouldn't surprise her if Donnelly didn't realize someone had helped John and as much as she prayed he didn't know it was her, she couldn't realistically say she was in the clear. Donnelly was an intelligent man and they had to play this the right way or things could go sideways.

"Carter, he's a number; I have to get close to him or we won't be able to help him," he rationalized.

"No, you don't; you need to keep your distance. The man in the suit is a hot topic with private investigators and investigative journalists because they want to prove you exist. They'd make a name for themselves using you to do it. They don't care that you help people or that you're a good man because all you are to them is a news story or an accolade they can put up on their damn wall. But I care; I care about you," she stated.

"What am I supposed to do, Carter?" he asked shortly.

"I'll go instead; I'll go get us eyes and ears on this guy at his office and home," she suggested immediately and when John said nothing she added; "If we don't get anything from that then tonight we can go on a stakeout together and watch this guy; see what we're dealing with. But John, you need to lay low with this number. We can't have you ousted by a P.I. because not only will your whole operation be uncovered, you'll have even more government agencies looking for you." Joss wasn't about to let that happen and if somehow it did, she'd hide John herself. No one was going to get their hands on him if she had a say.

Joss waited, allowing John to think over what she said and was confident that he would agree with her. He would understand that this was necessary to protect himself and the machine too. While the machine was important; John's life was far more important to her.

"Alright, Carter, you can go meet with McKinnon to get eyes and ears on him; we need to do this as soon as possible," he murmured.

"I'll be at the library in minutes," she replied quickly. After that she hung up with John and gathered some of her things, she hurried to Fusco's desk. "I need to go help John with one of his cases; if the captain asks…"

He waved her off, "I'll tell her you're running down a lead," he remarked smoothly.

"Thanks, I'll tell John he owes us lunch," she said with a flash of a smile as she patted his desk before she brusquely walked to the double doors.

* * *

John sat at the chair where Finch would usually be at; Bear in his dog bed that he bought and one of Finch's first editions mangled beside him along with a half-eaten bone. He was sure Finch would be upset by the sight. But his place didn't allow pets and he wasn't going to give Bear up. He stole the dog for a reason, besides Bear liked the library.

Carter was right, shadowing McKinnon wasn't a good idea but not for the reasons she claimed. He couldn't care less about himself; he was sure his past would catch up with him and when it did, he'd be ready to pay for his misdeeds. But he did care about this operation; he cared about saving lives and he would risk that if McKinnon became suspicious as to how he got his information. Not to mention they needed to find and save Finch and to do that; he needed to not be in jail or dead.

John glanced up when he heard the lock to the gate being undone and he shifted his gaze to see Carter walking towards him; he had given her keys to the library last night. He swallowed hard as he felt the surge of warmth spread through him, replacing the emptiness as she approached. Her words still rung in his head: _'They don't care that you help people or that you're a good man because all you are to them is a news story or an accolade they can put up on their damn wall. But I care; I care about you.'_

Carter believed and cared too much about him. It made him yearn for something he couldn't have, redemption, so he could be this good man that she believed him to be, to be a man good enough for someone like her, but men like him who'd seen and done the things he had were too far gone to be redeemed.

"What?" she asked as she stopped directly in front of him, leaving him to have to lean his head back to look her in her large doe eyes. They nearly had the power to make him believe in miracles, happy endings, and other such things a cynic like he had long stopped believing in. John averted his gaze when her eyes became questioningly and climbed to his feet to get some distance between them.

He picked up an ordinary looking pen. "Here, you'll need this." he said softly as he handed her the ballpoint pen.

Joss slowly took it from him and waited for him to explain. "It has a small camera embedded in the clip so we can get eyes on McKinnon." he said as he pointed to it, she nodded. He handed her a bug. "And I'm assuming you know what to do with this."

He fought the urge to smile at the roll of her eyes. "Yes; this isn't my first rodeo, John," she retorted with a degree of irritation lacing her voice. She watched as he held out something else to her. She picked up the earwig.

"You're official now, Carter," he mumbled.

Joss blinked before she smiled as she took the earwig and inserted it into her ear. "So the earwig makes me officially a member of this…this…well, whatever this is," she teased. "Maybe after this number we can have drinks at my place," she added, wanting to infuse herself in John's life as much as possible. Last night was still fresh in her mind; John had been raw and in need of a friend that wouldn't let him go run off to hide.

John wanted to tell her no; he needed to distance himself from her because he was getting too close to her. "Alright," he said instead of listening to his head. He exhaled in aggravation with himself. "I suggest you head to McKinnon's home first or I could while…." he began.

"No," she insisted, stopping what he was going to say. "I can handle it; you need to lay low until we manage to get eyes and ears on him so you can keep your distance."

He nodded. "I hacked his social media accounts and didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but I'll keep searching to see what I can dig up there," he continued.

Joss looked at the table that stood between them and swiped a flashdrive. John looked at her questioning. "While I'm at his place; may as well as search what's on his computer. He might have some notes at home for cases he's working on that might shed light on who might be coming for this guy or who he might be going after. And if he does then we can have a copy," she explained as she pocketed it.

John smiled a little. "I like how your mind works, Carter," he murmured, smirking.

She snorted. "You're bad influence is rubbing off on me, John," she responded. First she coerced a nice older man to let her up to John's apartment, then she picked his lock, and now she was going to break into a home and steal documents that might be on their new number's computer.

"If that was true: then you'd steal the whole computer instead of just the files on the computer," he replied.

She forced a look of contempt as she battled the smile that fought to slip on her face. "I'm not committing felonious theft unless there is a good reason to," she stated, bringing a small smile onto his face and making her feel incredibly warm inside. Joss cleared her throat as silence elapsed around them and she realized that they were staring at each other. "Uh, I should go," she stuttered, turning to walk the way she entered; but before she left she turned around and looked at John. "Oh and a FYI John: you owe Fusco lunch," she called out.

* * *

AN: I love their easy banter, so I tried to keep that going as long as possible :D Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: This poor story took a backseat to 'Force of Nature' but my muse is finally back on it...mostly.**_

* * *

It didn't take long for Joss to let herself into McKinnon's place. She heard a beep in her ear and clicked the button on her earwig. "How did you know I was here already?" she demanded instantly. There was no way he had followed her here. She had made sure he wasn't lurking in the shadows following her.

" _It's a trade secret_ ," Joss smiled at John's soft raspy voice that held a hint of humor in it. It was so slight it was nearly indiscernible but it was there. She was grateful because he had looked bleak earlier.

"A trade secret huh, meaning: you have some sort of GPS tracker on me somewhere," she replied as she slid gloves on her hands, not about to leave any prints here. John's silence was telling. "Don't worry, John, I won't ask where it is on me," even though she wondered exactly where it was! And how long it had been on her?!

" _See anything interesting_?" John asked, changing the subject.

Joss looked around the apartment and made a face. "Other than this guy is clearly single; no, not really," she remarked as she moved around his place. The apartment screamed bachelor pad. She looked around using her detective's gaze before heading into the kitchen and found nothing in the fridge, meaning he didn't eat here a lot. He had a case of beer and a week old milk carton. She slid the fridge closed before opening cupboards and found them barren too.

She turned her attention to the small living room with the hallway connected to it. The living room had an old couch with an adequate sized TV placed in front of it. The room held nothing of use to figure out the man that was their number. She moved to the bathroom and rifled through the cabinet. You could always find a person out by what medicines they took.

"Well he's definitely a proponent for safe sex," she muttered dryly as she pulled out box upon box of condoms. Good grief he probably singlehandedly kept condom companies in business; seriously who needed six big boxes of condoms. She put them back the way she took them out before closing the vanity door and headed for the bedroom.

She searched through his dresser drawers before rummaging through his closet. Joss almost wished she hadn't opened the small box on the floor of the closet. "Well John; this guy is into kinky stuff." she murmured not really surprised.

" _Oh?—why do you say that, Carter?_ " John asked.

"Because I just found a box of sex toys; he's got everything from vibrators to fuzzy handcuffs. I wonder if he has a hidden dungeon someplace to practice his BDSM," she said offhandedly.

" _You admitted to wanting me in your backseat in handcuffs, Carter_ ," he reminded her with a smile sounding in his voice.

She snorted, barely containing her sarcastic retort as she headed for the desk in the corner of his bedroom where a laptop rested. Joss started it up, praying he didn't have a password to get into the damn thing and while she waited she finished looking around his bedroom for anything that might help them figure out why the machine gave them his number. She searched under his bed seeing if she could find a weapon perhaps that he wanted to use in a crime, but other than a dust bunny or two there was nothing.

Joss moved back to the computer and grinned that McKinnon didn't have a password necessary to access his computer. "Finch would be very upset with this guy, but I'm not," she muttered under her breath before she began scanning through his laptop with efficiency. She didn't want to spend too much more time in his apartment; not sure about neighbors or if McKinnon could possibly head back to his place for some reason.

"We are in luck, John," she said happily as she combed through his laptop. "He has copies of his work files on here."

" _While you are engrossed in your deviancy, Carter; I took the opportunity to continue to peruse his social media accounts and found something interesting_ ," John murmured, but with noticeable anger lacing his usual calm low voice.

"Do tell…."

" _McKinnon is putting his hand in the cookie jar_ ," John replied.

She furrowed her brows as she waited for the files to finish copying. "What do you mean?" she asked, nonplussed as she began rifling through his desk, seeing if there was anything useful in it.

" _He slept with a few of the women that hired him to find out if their husbands were cheating on them_ ," he explained.

Joss sat back as she looked up. "You're kidding, right?" she demanded.

" _I wish I was_."

"So let me get this straight: he found evidence of their spouses cheating on them, then told them, and then used their anguish and the fact that they were in a low spot to his advantage to get in their pants?" she asked angrily.

Joss could almost see the scene now: the woman crying on McKinnon's shoulder as he holds her and murmurs it will be okay, before he tells her he doesn't understand how anyone could cheat on her, and then one thing leads to another and they are in bed. It nauseated her.

" _That's about it_ ," John agreed darkly.

Joss made a face. "This guy makes me want to punch him in the face," she snapped. Or rather punch him where seemingly his brain sat which was decidedly farther south than his head.

" _Apparently the latest notch on McKinnon's bedpost was a married woman who was suspecting her husband of cheating but he didn't. McKinnon lied to get the woman into bed and there was a heated exchange that ensued. After the war of words was finished several other women took to comment that they were seduced by McKinnon who then openly bragged about it_."

Joss felt her brows rise. "Can it be verified that he lied to get the woman into bed?" she asked. If it was true then they might have a viable suspect but all men were going to claim they are being lied about when they are caught sleeping around.

" _It's hearsay, but regardless if it's true or not, the woman believes it is and it could mean a rather upset husband whose wife was taken advantage of at a weak moment or if not there are numerous women that hate this guy and feels violated. We might be back to square one over who could be after McKinnon_."

"But we know where the threat might be coming from now. Get me the names and I'll have Fusco run them in the database and see if any has a history of violence," she whispered as she shut down the computer before removing the flashdrive. "I'm about done here."

" _Come back to the library, Carter, so I can take a look at those files_."

Joss closed the laptop and repositioned it the way she found it. "I'm on my way," she assured him as she turned and hurried to leave. 

* * *

John paced the floor of the library. He felt like he was climbing the walls without getting to actively work the number and rather play the 'Finch' role in this case because if he got too close and McKinnon started asking the wrong questions it could lead to more trouble than it was worth. And he couldn't place any undue harm to the operation or Carter, who was risking a lot to help him until they somehow could find Finch. If the machine was exposed by McKinnon it could lead to catastrophic consequences and if Joss was linked to him in any way or to the machine then her very life would be in danger. He already lost Jessica and Finch; he couldn't lose Joss too.

He felt a pang of regret that he had failed the man that helped save him from himself. If he never met Joss or Finch he wouldn't be here now. And the one time that Finch needed him…he failed. The guilt that threatened to choke him faded as he heard the mesh gate open and shut and Joss was walking towards him.

"Stop brooding John; we're going to get him back," she commented sternly as she handed him the flashdrive with McKinnon's work files on it. He let his hand linger on hers for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, seeking touch and warmth that he had no right too.

Joss eyed John, wondering what happened to his careful mask he wore because his face was an open book. He didn't quite hide the pain in his eyes as he turned to move away.

She reached out and snagged his hand; he looked at her startled. "John, talk to me," she asked gently. Joss almost wished she hadn't said anything because the guarded look reemerged, the mask in place, and she was effectively shut out.

"Nothing to talk about, Carter," he said as he shrugged off her touch and moved to the computers on the table.

She eyed him. He sat rigidly, knowing that she watching him but he was good at deflecting. "You know, one of these days you're going to want to talk," she said softly, noting he paused but still kept his steady gaze on the computer screen. "And when you're ready to: I'll be there for you."

He shifted his gaze off the screen and back to her. "Talk about what?" he asked.

She tried to smile but it didn't quite work. "Let's see, you might want to talk about Jessica or your checkered past with the CIA that makes you want to atone for sins of the crimes they had you commit. Or we could delve much further back and talk about the fact that you lost your dad young or how about your biological mother that abandoned you; or your loving adoptive mother Margaret that you loved, died leaving you all alone which was the catalyst that sent you spiraling out of control, landing you into boot camp," Joss trailed off, illustrating her point that she knew so much about him yet nothing at the same time. She knew what was written about him on paper but she didn't know what truly counted: how he felt about it all. She couldn't imagine growing up with the life he had, suffering all that loss so young, but he came out the other side relatively unscathed, maybe a little closed off and skittish of getting close.

"Almost forgot that I let you get my prints." he murmured nonchalantly but she heard an edge to his voice. She could hear the unspoken plea of: 'back off' resonating within it.

Joss stared at his profile, knowing she struck a nerve so she said gently; "Maybe one day you'll tell me the tale yourself." She had a suspicion that John didn't talk about losing any of them, not his father, not his real mother, the one that loved him and didn't abandon him, and certainly not Jessica.

He looked at her. "My life's story isn't worth the time it'd take to tell it," he stated gruffly.

"Not to me," she whispered sincerely. He blinked at her soft statement. She wanted to push a little more but was afraid if she pushed too hard it would do more harm than good.

Joss cleared her throat. "So, uh, I'll head to precinct and see if we got any hits on the BOLOs Fusco and I put out," she said as she took a step or two back before petting Bear on the head. "Then maybe after I'll head to McKinnon's office and see if I can get eyes and ears on him."

John shifted his gaze away. "Yea, sounds good: I'll just look through his work files and see if there is a case he might be working on that could be the threat," he offered.

She nodded before turning to leave and missed him watching her as she did.

* * *

AN: I love building the intimacy between Reese and Carter. By the time they get Harold back, John is going to be so far in love with Joss he won't know which way is up ;D

Thanks for reading and being patient with me on this story. This one is going to have long spaces between updates as it is taking me forever to write it. I get an idea and then change it. First I wanted a slow burn but then I didn't and now I'm back on the slow burn train, so my muse is being difficult.


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